Crunchy Lessons

Thoughtful Thursday

In my driving career, I’ve rolled plenty of beaters. There was that Pathfinder that was three different colors; the extended ’79 green Suburban. That Neon that was beat to hell and back. The Camry that almost exploded and leaked oil all the damn time. (No, seriously. I had to put a quart in it every single day.) So, as a grown folk, when I found myself in the position to drive something nice, that’s exactly what I did. The Camry was my final beater. It was replaced by a Civic, and then an Accord, and now, Loretta. After having driven a beater for so many years, having a nice ride is important to me. I take pride in keeping my car crispy, and few things please me as much as getting Loretta back from a fresh detail.

So.

Look what the fuck happened today.

I know, right? Driving on the highway, pre-holiday traffic, some kid behind me who wasn’t paying attention … smashed right into Loretta’s bumper. I saw his Honda approaching and thought for sure he’d stop in time. Nope.

Le sigh.

After we’d exchanged information and I drove off to complete the second half of my day, I found a rage bubbling so deeply inside of me that I started to not recognize my own thoughts. I’m generally a pretty easy going kind of chick. I mean, don’t fuck with my protein or my coffee and we’re good … so it takes a significant event to get me to the point where I want to seriously shank someone. Shanking was certainly on my mind all afternoon as I reviewed the accident over and over. At first, I was super pissed at the kid for not paying attention. And then at myself for not finding a way to move. And then, I realized being pissed at myself or the kid wasn’t going to do me a lick of good. So I started to examine exactly why I was so salty.

It all goes back to the beater.

I am a firm believer that driving a beater builds character … the more cringe-worthy the ride, the most backbone a broad has to develop to enter and exit it with grace and poise. I’ve been dipping in and out of a nice ride for so many years now that I’d forgotten that lesson. The repair shop can’t get Loretta in to be assessed until Monday, so that means until then, I’m rolling a busted ride. Know what? It’s probably good for me. #stayhumble #hustlehard